Unfortunately, Evidence
by Kegel
Summary: The CSI team has to put up with the fact that one of them is a suspect in a murder and has left many traces behind.
1. Chapter 1

It's my first fan-fic and English is not my native language, so sorry if I used wrong words or made a lot of grammar mistakes, I did my best.

I hope you can enjoy it nevertheless.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or any of its characters, not even Greg :-)

Many thanks to _witchbsword_ for proofreading my chapters.

**

* * *

**

**Unfortunately, Evidence**

Chapter 1

It was routine. The police-officers. The yellow tape. The coroner was already there.

Swing shift had only started when Nick was approaching the coroner who was standing next to the body.

"Shot. Dead for a few hours," he told him and looked at the body which was lying next to a garbage can in the backyard of a house. "A little girl searching for her cat found him and told her parents. They called the police."

Nick started to take photos of the crime scene and the victim. "Do we know who he is?" he asked the coroner.

"Not yet."

Nick searched the pockets of the victim. "Nothing. No wallet. Maybe robbery," he said.

He looked at the clothes of the man.

"What's this stuff on the vic's jacket?" he wondered. He touched the man's jacket. "It's sticky." He remembered the puddle he had seen next to the garbage can while taking photos.

Frowning, he approached the can and touched the puddle like he had done with the stuff on the jacket. "Sticky," he said. "Could be paste."

"Don't know," the coroner stated. "Case for your chemists, I'd say."

Nick raised his eyebrows. "Seems like somebody disposed the rest of his paste from his last renovation into a leaky garbage can before the murder happened."

Looking at the several spots of the stuff which the victim had on his clothes, Nick remarked:

"You can see the shape of a shoe. Looks like somebody stamped his foot on him. We can't get a print of that, it's too blurred."

Nick took a sample of the stuff and bagged it.

After a closer investigation of the body he gave the coroner the permission to remove the victim. "We'll see what we get out of him," the coroner said.

At this moment Warrick was approaching the crime scene. "Hey, Catherine just called me. I'll help you," he explained.

"Let's start then," Nick suggested. "Do you want the garbage can?" he asked Warrick. Looking like all his secret wishes came true Warrick put on gloves and started to sift through the garbage can while Nick examined the whole crime scene looking for clues.

* * *

Some hours later back at the lab, Nick went to the coroner who told him that he got two bullets out of the victim and that he had sent them to ballistics. "The victim has bruises on his chest," the coroner added and showed Nick some pictures he had taken. 

"Fits to the prints we found on the clothes," Nick remarked.

* * *

Nick accompanied Warrick into the break room and they were sitting and chatting there when the ballistic expert came running to the room. "Have to talk to you" he said panting. "Privately," he added with a serious face. 

Nick and Warrick followed him to a silent corner. "What happened? Do you have any results of the shooting for us?" Nick enquired.

"I have. But… I'm a bit confused," the tech stated. "Tell us," Warrick demanded.

"The bullets which the coroner got out of the victim are of the type CSI's are usually using for their guns."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Surprised, Nick turned to Warrick. "How is that possible?" he asked.

The tech left and seemed glad to get out of the situation.

Warrick frowned. "We shouldn't think the worst. Could be coincidence. It makes no sense to check every CSI's gun at the moment. What else do we have?"

"I sent some stuff from the victim's clothes to the lab," Nick replied.

"I bagged everything that was in the stinking garbage can. I've phoned the company which is doing the waste disposal out there. The can has been emptied only this morning," Warrick explained.

"And the murder happened around noon. So we know that everything in the can could be a trace back to the murderer."

"So we should get everything processed," Nick suggested eagerly.

* * *

When the end of their shift was approaching, Nick and Warrick met in the break room where already some people from nightshift were sitting.

Nick and Warrick said hello to Greg and chatted when Catherine was coming in.

She looked thoughtful. She saw them, walked next to them and said in a low voice: "The police called about two hours ago. They found a gun some houses away from our crime scene. It was in a plastic bag together with an empty bottle."

"Garbage again," Warrick said, but Catherine continued: "I was out, investigating everything, bagging the bottle and the plastic bag and getting the gun. At first glance I saw that it's one of our guns."

Nick and Warrick looked puzzled. Greg, who was sitting near them, turned his head to listen.

"I got it to ballistics and they compared the bullets with the bullets which killed the victim. It is the same weapon," Catherine stated.

After a short silence and now, nearly whispering, Catherine said: "It's Sara's gun."

"What?" yelled Greg, jumping to his feet.

"Calm down," Catherine said. "You shouldn't even listen." Sighing, she added: "But you have. So, have you seen Sara already? It's about time for your shift."

"No," Greg replied and shrugged his shoulders.

* * *

Half an hour later Sara still was not there. Nick looked at the clock which was hanging on the wall and then at Catherine.

"What are you going to do?" he asked her nervously.

"I'll search for her. Maybe she's in the locker room. I have to ask her some questions," she answered. "I'll wait here," Nick announced. Catherine nodded and left the break room.

* * *

Sara was standing in front of her closed locker, looking absent as if she thought about something.

"You're late," Catherine said matter-of-factly.

Sara turned around. "And you're still here?" she replied slightly surprised. "Sorry for being late, I had a little problem," she added.

"Looking for your gun?" Catherine asked.

Sara seemed perplexed. "How do you know?" she asked suspiciously.

"We should clear this in my office," Catherine suggested. There seemed to be some reluctance on Sara's side, but then she agreed.

* * *

Catherine and Sara took a seat in Catherine's office.

"We found your gun." Catherine declared directly. Sara's eyes widened.

"Where?" she asked.

"Near to a crime scene," Catherine said coldly.

Sara opened her mouth but said nothing.

"The victim was killed with your gun. We compared the bullets," Catherine continued.

Sara became pale for a moment but then she seemed rather angry. "My gun was locked in my car together with my kit. I checked my kit before I got to work and realized my gun was missing. It must have been stolen."

Catherine lifted her eyebrows. Sara jumped up from her chair. "What are you implying? I did nothing wrong. I have not even been near the crime scene," she said her voice growing louder.

Calming herself down she added: "Why would I shoot somebody I don't even know? That's nonsense."

Catherine folded her arms. "I have not said that you shot anybody. Only that the victim was killed with your gun."

Her voice got sharp when she continued: "We have identified the victim by now. Albert Ranger, 43. Does that ring a bell? We had him as a suspect here six months ago. He was suspected of having beaten up and murdering his wife. But we did not have enough evidence and had to let him go." Sara looked gloomily.

There was a short silence before Catherine continued: "So all I can say and relate from your behavior: you have a motive."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sara said nothing.

After an uncomfortable silence Catherine declared: "I have to tell it Grissom."

Sara still said nothing.

"Do you want to accompany me to his office?" Catherine asked in a friendly tone.

"Sure," Sara whispered and left Catherine's office quickly.

* * *

Grissom was doing his favourite paper work when Sara and Catherine walked into his office. Catherine knocked on his open door and he looked up. "Hallo. You are still here?" he asked Catherine surprised.

Sara remained staying in the door with her arms folded.

"We have a problem," Catherine began. "We got a shooting today. Near the crime scene a gun was found. It fits to the bullets which killed the victim."

"What is the problem?" Grissom asked frowning.

Catherine glanced at Sara and then at Grissom and announced, "It's Sara's gun."

Grissom opened his mouth, but it was Sara who murmured, "Cannot be my gun."

"It is," Catherine said impatiently. "And in my office you said you think it has been stolen."

"I just wanted to look whether it was in my locker, although I am sure that I put it into my trunk when you asked me to come to your office," Sara tried to explain.

"So we should just go and look," Grissom suggested friendly.

Sara's look darkened. "I can look after my things myself."

Catherine again glanced first at Sara then on Grissom. "Sorry to say that. But I will call Nick. He's still here and it's his crime scene. Just in case," she decided and added: "He'll open your locker."

* * *

Looking uncomfortable and wearing gloves, Nick opened Sara's locker. He searched through the locker, pushing aside some of Sara's neatly stored things. "No gun in here," he finally said.

"No surprise, because Sara's gun was found near a crime scene," Catherine stated.

Nick glanced at a pair of Sara's shoes which were lying in the locker and held them up. Some strange, sticky stuff was on them. "I know that stuff," Nick said slowly. "It was also on the victim's clothes."

"Everything has to be processed …" Catherine began but Grissom interrupted her: "We will do that."

Catherine looked at Sara. "I'm sorry, but Nick has to take a sample from your hands, Sara, and test it for gun shot residue, chemicals … you know the procedure."

"I've already washed my hands," Sara said sarcastically, "but if it makes you happy, go ahead."

Nick and Sara left and Catherine turned to Grissom, who was silent.

"I still have to tell you something," Catherine began. Grissom still said nothing.

What Catherine told him about the victim was nothing which broke his silence.

* * *

"Just hold up your hands with the palms up, please," said Nick, feeling no more comfortable than when he had opened Sara's locker. He examined her hands and took a sample. "Thanks," he said, looking at Sara, "and sorry."

Sara smiled for half a second. "You don't have to apologize. It's your job."

* * *

Some minutes later Nick and Sara returned to the locker room where Catherine and Grissom were waiting.

"It's clear that Sara cannot be included in your "we", Grissom. She should go home until we call her for an interrogation." Catherine stated without looking at Sara.

She glanced to Grissom who glanced at Sara with an apologizing look.

"We're getting used to that." Sara whispered. "I'm off then."

They watched Sara leave. "Nick, I'm sorry that you have to work overtime again. Please investigate the locker and send everything to the lab," Catherine requested.

Nick nodded but didn't leave.

"We found no wallet. It could be robbery," he remarked hopefully.

"Possible. But what about Sara's gun?" replied Catherine.

"Stolen," said Nick.

When Catherine answered nothing, he added: "Sara says so."

* * *

Greg was still thinking about the conversation which he had overheard in the break room. He was in the lab, helping out Mia because of the loads of stuff Warrick and Nick had brought them from the crime scene and the additional things from Sara's locker.

How was it possible that the victim had been killed with Sara's gun? He didn't let the thought occur that Sara had shot the man. Not possible. Impossible.

He sighed and reached for the sheet of paper which was coming out of the printer. It was the result from the bottle which had been found in the plastic bag together with the gun. The DNA on it was female. It was Sara's.

* * *

Greg set off for Grissom's office.

Walking slowly into the room and closing the door behind him, he looked seriously at Grissom.

"The bottle which was in the plastic bag together with the gun … Sara's DNA is on it," he said, looking downcast.

Grissom stood up, looking serious and sad at the same time. "Probably the first time I say this: unfortunately, we have some other evidence, too. I just got some other results from Hodges. The paste that was found on the victim's clothes is the same from Sara's shoes."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Well, here is the next chapter.

Thanks to _witchbsword _for proofreading. Remaining mistakes are mine.

Chapter 4

Greg looked miserable. "But that's not possible," he uttered. "And it's nonsense. Sara's a forensic expert. Why should she be so stupid to leave so much evidence behind?"

Grissom looked as if an idea was forming into his head but he said: "Don't know."

Greg continued: "Apart from that. Sara would not do that. She would not do that. She did not do that." he said desperately, glancing at Grissom in hope of a confirmation.

"It's our job to process the evidence." Grissom said. "So we should do that."

He sighed. "I'll call Brass. He'll get a warrant."

* * *

On the next day Catherine seated herself opposite of Sara in the interrogation room. She felt weird not sitting next to her but opposite. Brass was standing in a corner looking as if he would prefer not being there, would it not have been for procedure."

Catherine laid all the results she had gained on the table.

"Your car will be investigated now, as you know," she said to Sara, who said nothing.

"Where have you been after your shift ended on the day of the murder?" Catherine began.

Sara glanced fiercely at Catherine but spoke quietly "At home."

"All the time?"

"Yes. Until I got to work again."

"How do you explain the clues we found: the gun, your gun, which was the weapon that killed the victim?" Catherine asked, wishing Sara could explain it.

"I have not been at the crime scene. I have not killed the man." Sara stated.

"The gun was found in a plastic bag together with an empty bottle. On the bottle was your DNA." Catherine continued. Sara looked darkly.

"The victim has been treaded. We found a certain paste on him, obviously in a shape of a shoe. The same paste was on your shoes." Catherine relentless moved on.

"Did you stomp on the body after you shot the man?"

* * *

Greg held the bottle in his hands. He turned it around. Nick had not only sent DNA from the bottle to the lab but had also taken finger prints from it which all fitted Sara's.

Greg looked at the label of the bottle. Something brown had polluted the paper. A brown liquid.

Thinking of the person who was now sitting opposite of Catherine he started working.

* * *

"No." was Sara's only answer.

This moment the door opened and Nick looked into the room, feeling obviously miserable.

Catherine stood up and talked quietly with him. Finally, she nodded and Nick vanished with a glance to Sara.

Catherine sat down again, sighing resignedly.

"In your trunk the victim's ID-card was found. In a plastic bag," she said. She felt miserable but did not show it.

Sara now looked absent.

"I will guess," Catherine said, "that it happened like this:"

_She was waiting. Waiting for him. Her gun was ready. There he was. She held up her gun, aimed at his heart. He held up his hands, shocked. He made some steps backwards. She followed him, drove him to the backyard. And shot. All her rage was concentrated on this moment. Then she could not stop herself. She stomped on him. Again and again. Then she fled._

_She ran. Her mouth was dry. She took the last gulp out of her bottle. She put the gun and the bottle in a plastic bag and threw it away, without thinking, her thoughts were somewhere else._

_The ID-card she had taken from her victim, no … no victim, from the bastard, she threw it into her trunk and made her way home._

Sara's eyes were downcast.

"I can also only guess, why you haven't changed your shoes," Catherine continued.

_She tried to appear calm while she was entering the crime lab. "Just don't make yourself noticed." She looked at her feet. Saw her shoes. She hadn't changed her shoes. Hastily she changed them at the locker room and had just shut her locker when Catherine entered the room. _

"No," whispered Sara.

"It's what the evidence shows," Catherine stated, "Unfortunately, like someone said."

Sara looked absent again.

The door of the interrogation room opened again and this time it was Grissom who looked into the room.

Catherine stood up, went out of the room and shut the door behind her.

She folded her hands and looked at Grissom expectantly.

She waited for him to start the conversation.

"You will get her arrested?" he asked plainly.

Catherine nodded. "There is too much evidence."

Grissom nodded silently.

"But…" Catherine started. Grissom frowned and Catherine continued: "But it's almost too obvious. It seems as if something isn't right here."

Grissom looked at her pensively.

"Well … the ID-card in her car. How stupid can she be? She had enough time to throw it away," Catherine said, putting her left hand on her forehead and pondering hard. "Unless she did not know it was in her car. Nick said it was lying hidden below some other stuff. Maybe she is actually innocent."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Catherine sighed and turned to return into the interrogation room to do what had to be done, when her attention was drawn to somebody jumping along the corridor.

She recognized Greg.

Grissom went to him, frowning, and Greg talked to him animatedly.

"What happened?" Catherine yelled impatiently, Grissom went in the other direction, but Greg approached her, smiling. "New evidence," he said.

Catherine raised her eyebrows and asked: "You're sure you're not making matters worse?"

* * *

When Greg entered the interrogation room, Sara was very pale; she pressed her fingernails into her palms and looked downwards, so that her hair fell into her face.

Brass stood, arms crossed, in a corner of the room and waited for them.

Sara looked up and when she saw Greg it seemed as if she was thinking it was a good sign that he was grinning like that.

"So, Greg, can you explain now?" Catherine wanted to know, after she had seated herself opposite of Sara.

"Started with the bottle." Greg began. He was talking very fast. "Sara's DNA on it. And her fingerprints." He glanced at Sara with an indefinable look. "And coffee." Both Sara and Catherine looked puzzled and Greg continued: "Blue Hawaiian."

Sara looked amused and unbelieving at the same time.

"The label of the bottle is polluted with coffee. It's Blue Hawaiian, it's certain. I think the bottle was in the garbage can in our break room together with a rest of my valuable coffee which a worthless person managed to get in there." Greg explained. "Of course it could be coincidence."

Catherine nodded.

Greg moved on. "But I think somebody took Sara's empty bottle with Sara's DNA and fingerprints on it out of the garbage can, bagged it and placed it together with her gun."

"Next: her shoes. The paste on it – the same like on the victim's clothes. But we have to realize not only what was on the shoes but also what was not on the shoes, or better, what was not in the paste: dirt. There was no dirt. If Sara has got the paste on her shoes at the crime scene there also has to be dirt in the paste on her shoes, because it's polluted while you're walking and the dirt sticks in the paste. But there was no dirt. So I guess the paste was put on her shoes by hand and the shoes were not worn after that happened," Greg explained seriously.

Catherine held up her hand. "Okay, let's assume you are right. Who did it?"

Greg smiled. "I also found traces of detergent on the bottle. And on the ID-card. And on Sara's locker and inside her locker. And on the shoes. The detergent that is used to clean all these rooms."

"The detergent could come from Sara," Catherine interrupted him.

"You assume that she had changed her shoes with the paste before you met her in the locker room. Then you went to your office and afterwards to the locker room again.

Nick took samples from her hands. She had neither paste nor detergent on her hands," Greg explained.

Sara looked at him, slightly amused and certainly relieved. "I could have washed my hands after I changed my shoes. In fact I said I had washed them," she said.

"You had no time," declared Greg. "I talked to Nick and asked him, at which time Catherine went to the locker room to search for you. It was only one minute after you entered the lab. You know, the entry time is documented. There was no time to change your shoes and to walk to the bathroom and back until Catherine met you in the locker room."

_The car rushed along the road. She saw it only out of the corner of her eyes. She opened the trunk of her car and put her things into it._

_Suddenly a woman screamed. She quickly turned around and saw a woman crying next to the street. She made a few steps towards her. "Everything okay with you?" she asked. _

"_Yes, yes. Everything okay … Car … almost hit me. I'm just a bit shocked." The woman replied and stopped crying. "Should be more careful." she added._

_Sara nodded and went back to her car, closing the trunk and making her way home. _

"The gun," Sara mumbled hardly audible. "The car. The woman. That's the moment it must have happened."

In this moment Grissom entered the room. "I think we can finish this unfortunate interrogation. Greg told me everything," he said, looking at Catherine.

"But …" Catherine interrupted. "What about the gun?"

Sara smiled. "I think I can explain that now."

"You can explain it later. I'm sure everything will be cleared in the next room. Brass, would you come and help me?" Grissom asked matter-of-factly and added:

"Greg can stay with Sara. And you and Catherine come with me."

Greg smiled at Sara.

* * *

In the other room a woman was sitting. An officer was standing next to the door.

Grissom, Catherine and Brass entered the room.

Brass took the task of doing all the formal stuff and finally Catherine asked the woman: "Who are you?"

"Hanna Mill," the woman answered short and perfectly calm.

At Catherine's questioning look Grissom explained: "She's Lizzy Ranger's sister. And she works in the crime lab."

"Cleaning," Hanna Mill added.

Grissom nodded and continued to explain: "Greg came to me and told me he had found traces of the detergent, which is used to clean the rooms in the lab, on the bottle just as on the shoes and on the locker and that the bottle has probably been taken from the garbage can in our break room. So I looked into the files of all employees of the cleaning staff, searching for connections to our case." He made a short break before he added: "And I found Hanna Mill, Lizzy Ranger's sister, the murdered wife of Albert Ranger, our victim."

Hanna Mill's face hardened. "No victim. The bastard murdered my sister," she said.

At this point Catherine spoke again: "We could not prove he had done it."

"He has. He confessed it to me, the bastard, he was even satisfied with himself," Hanna Mill stated.

"And you shot him and revenged your sister?" Catherine asked quietly.

"Yes," answered Hanna calmly.

"And you planted the evidence to incriminate Sara Sidle?" Catherine wanted to know.

"Yes," was again the answer.

"Why?" Catherine asked completely astonished.

"If one of you is affected, you're so busy; you do not see anything what's going on around you. At least I thought so," Hanna Mill explained.

"We should come to the beginning," Grissom finally said, "How did you get Ms. Sidle's gun?"

Hanna Mill leaned back in her chair. "Easy. I have watched her several times. Always the same: open trunk, kit in, gun in, close trunk," she said and continued: "I waited near her car. She opened the trunk, put her stuff in. Then there was the distraction. I grabbed her gun …"

She was interrupted by Catherine: "What distraction?"

At this point Hanna Mill hesitated for the first time.

"She has nothing to do with it. She only did me a favour."

Catherine raised her eyebrows. "Who?"

"My friend. She really has nothing to do with it," Hanna Mill said. "She screamed and distracted her. She went some steps away from her car," she explained without saying Sara's name.

"She only did me a favour. She did not know what I was up to."

Grissom nodded and continued: "Back to the gun…"

Hanna Mill nodded, calming down. "I grabbed the gun and threw Albert's ID-card into the trunk."

"Hold on," Catherine interrupted. "You had the ID-card before the murder?"

Hanna Mill nodded again. "I stole it the day before, when I was meeting him. He didn't realize it."

"Sara could have seen the plastic bag which contained the card in her trunk," Catherine said.

"Maybe, but she didn't," Lizzy Ranger's sister stated, calmly again.

"I'd appreciate it, if you continued with the story," Grissom remarked politely.

"I shot him. I gave him some last kicks. He deserved it," Hanna Mill told them plainly.

"I saw the paste and had a brilliant idea," she continued.

"Not too brilliant though," Grissom commented. "You forgot the dirt."

Hanna Mill shrugged her shoulders. "Bad luck."

"However, I bagged some of the paste which was still leaking out of the garbage can."

"And put it on Ms. Sidle's shoes," Grissom said. Hanna Mill nodded.

"How did you get into her locker?" Catherine asked.

"I work here. Don't you know how easy it is to get into the lockers? Low security."

"But it has definitely been risky, you could have been seen," Catherine stated.

"Whole life's a risk. I did it for Lizzy," Hanna said coolly and continued to explain: "I fished the bottle, which she had thrown into the garbage, out of the can. I planted it together with the gun, not at the crime scene, too obvious, but some houses away, I hoped you'd find it."

Sighing she added: "Bad luck. The detergent." She looked at Grissom. "It was on my hands and on my working gloves. Bad luck." There she finished, folded her arms and waited calmly.

Catherine leaned back in her chair, she was relieved and what she had heard was enough for her, but Grissom was not satisfied: "You definitely set light upon this case, but one thing's left: Why Sara?"

Without any motion Hanna Mill said: "Easiest. Drives home alone every time. So easy to distract her and get the gun."

* * *

"So, you didn't do it?" Greg asked half-joking in the next room.

Sara looked at him darkly. "No, I didn't," she said in a definite tone. Then she smiled, but sighed a moment later. "The gun, out of my trunk. I'm sure." She shook her head, unbelieving.

"I was pondering how everything is possible the whole time, but I absolutely couldn't explain it," she told him. "I was getting desperate because I couldn't explain it."

She looked downwards.

"When Catherine first came to me I was only surprised." She shrugged her shoulders. "I had searched for my gun and was late. When she told me it was used to kill the man I couldn't believe it in the first moment and even got angry because Catherine thought it possible that I had shot the man.

But I still didn't think that matters would turn so bad." While Sara was telling this, her look had darkened again. Greg remained silent for once, only listened.

"When I was sent home I was pondering all the time, but I found no solution.

During the interrogation, when Catherine showed me all the evidence against me, I felt helpless, and the only thing I could declare was that I hadn't done it, I could not explain the evidence.

After the news that they found the ID-card in my trunk, I was really absent, I was getting desperate, I tried to recall how in any way somebody could have grabbed my gun and how the card got into my trunk.

I could do nothing. Simply nothing." Sara was pale again. _I hate feeling helpless. _"When you came, I was really afraid that further evidence against me had been found. But then I saw your face and interpreted your expression as a good sign." Now she smiled.

"Somebody got my gun out of my trunk, while I was distracted by the screaming woman," she said and added after a short silence: "The bottle and the paste: no idea, I cannot tell why this all happened, but I think Grissom will find out, he finds out everything."

"I really should be more careful," she concluded.

"Really," Greg said and laid his hands on her shoulders. Looking into her eyes he said: "I'm so glad, you didn't do it … I knew you didn't do it, I'm glad we can prove now you didn't do it."

Sara smiled at him. "You worked very hard, so that you can prove it," she said and added: "Thank you."

"Rare, but true: you said 'thank you'. Something you didn't often do when you got results from me in the DNA lab," Greg commented, grinning.

The end


End file.
